


miss you

by miniaturetigers



Series: joshler oneshots [2]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: I'm gay, M/M, No Smut, One Shot, at least he showed josh how much he cares, but oh well, tyler wishes he did things differently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7753345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniaturetigers/pseuds/miniaturetigers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so i got this idea while eating (only) mashed potatoes for dinner and thought "why not?"<br/>p.s. i have dYSLEXIA AND MIX WORDS UP I'M SORRY IF SOME WORDS ARE WRONG OR LETTERS ARE FLIPPED</p>
    </blockquote>





	miss you

**Author's Note:**

> so i got this idea while eating (only) mashed potatoes for dinner and thought "why not?"  
> p.s. i have dYSLEXIA AND MIX WORDS UP I'M SORRY IF SOME WORDS ARE WRONG OR LETTERS ARE FLIPPED

  He was so much more than the colours of his hair, or the small of his back, or his desperate need to count and recount and count and recount because if he didn't the worry would spill out through his eyes and ears in the form of sticky, red, gooey blood. Josh was more than the planets of our solar system and the infinity number of stars floating around in the darkness of our galaxy; he was so much  _more_.

  But the only person who knew all of this was Tyler. The only person who appreciated the warmth in his eyes and the way his fingers curled around rebellious strands of hair and how his legs would shake like a palm tree in a hurricane, was Tyler. Only he realized the small little miracle that was Josh Dun's existence... And that was okay. Because, why would a boy who despises being seen want anyone to know how great he is in the first place?

  Why would someone as cripplingly nervous as Josh want to have everybody's eyes contemplating how gracefully his limbs could move? The only thing that would bring is for the nervousness already intoxicating his veins to _evolve_ into a horrendous monster of anxiety. And there is nothing swell about a monster that feeds off your endless fear to make you feel a fear worse than the one before. It was an endless cycle of sweaty palms and stomachs turning to graveyards of nothing and everything at the same time.

 

  And the tan skinned boy looked into the casket with heavy eyes and fragile cheek bones... he hated it. Tyler could barely hold back the  _need_ to lift his hands and caress Josh's cold, paler-than-before cheeks and let his salty tears burn scars into the hollow of his neck. Tyler wanted nothing more than for Josh to come back to life and hug him tight and tell him all of this was some sort of twisted prank, or for him to wake up to a sleepy Josh beside him, arms and legs tangled and breaths and words tangled together; but he knew none of that would happen. Because 1. Josh was  **dead** , and, 2. Josh hated being touched.

  Actually, there was a time (out of one of the few times Tyler had spoken to the boy) Josh had explained why human touch felt so unpleasant and threatening. 

   [ "I don't know... It just doesn't  _feel_ right, y'know? Like, it... like, it, burns like sticking your hand in a pot of boiling oil... and it leaves this weird, disgusting aftertaste of crushed leaves and metal-in-my-mouth and the smell of rotten milk but, in a creamy like texture. Because I just don't like when people, when they get too close to me because it is my space and my space is only mine, does that make sense? Like,  _you_ , Ty, can touch me for a minute or two and there is no crushed leaves or metal-in-my-mouth or knots in my throat, but whenever someone else gets too close all too fast it doesn't feel right. The feeling of touch makes me feel like some sort of caged animal in a circus who is just there to put on shows and be poked with sticks by little four year old's. Unpleasant." 

    Tyler still remembers the painful discomfort that made Josh's voice stumble out in uneven and scratchy messes of too-rushed-words. He also remembers patting Josh's back after that (unconsciously, like, it wasn't supposed to happen, but the brunet wanted to let his friend know that  _he_ would never do anything to hurt him) and how Josh screamed and slapped his hand away before rocking back and forth and back and forth for five whole minutes.]

 

  And his eyes the exact colour of melted chocolate wanted to look away but  _couldn't_ look, away, because there before him lay the only flicker of hope and happiness that existed in his life. There before him, in a mahogany casket (which Josh probably wouldn't have liked because mahogany has a strange ring to it, so he once told Tyler) lay a pretty boy with lifeless lips and eyes that would be shut until they eventually decayed, but he didn't deserve to be there. It was all wrong. Everything had ended so abrupt... it reminded Tyler of the one time he took Josh to the amusement park (this outing they had no speech whatsoever, but Tyler didn't mind) and begged the at-the-time blue haired boy to ride the teacups with him. The minute they got off Josh hurled out chunks of vomit, but, both of them laughed after he stopped.

  And the awkwardly thin brunet thought he had been standing there staring at Josh for all of eternity, when in reality Tyler had only been there for 3 minutes before walking away, though continued to suffer. As he sat down in green grass just a few metres away he remembered the time they had gone to get ice-cream (there was a lot of talking this time) and ended up making Josh upset.

   [ Tyler's hand slowly rested on the other boy's thigh, and he looked up into those endearing eyes,"Josh?" he asked cautiously, to make sure the touch was okay. Josh nodded in agreement. "I-I can see the bruises on your neck and... I want you to be safe, okay? I just wanna know how you got em."

    A frown painted itself on Josh's rose coloured lips. "Nothing. 's nothing at all."

    For obvious reasons, Tyler wanted to ask more and went to opening his mouth, letting just a few words slowly tumble out, but Josh interrupted. "Ty, no more questions. 's nothing I was just upset 'n' mad and I don't remember why." Josh's voice kept raising with each word but Tyler was too worried for Josh and continued to poke at the question. "That's enough. Ty! Stop! Stop it!" 

    Just like another painful memory of Josh getting upset (he was easy to irritate so there was always one too many memories of Josh shouting), he slapped Tyler's hand away and covered his ears with his hands. He kept murmuring some sort of made up curse word for the next 6 minutes and Tyler was apologizing those entire 6 minutes.

    The subject never came up again. ]

 

  And there was now a pain making the blood in his veins pulse and throb.

  The pain, oh, the pain stabbed Tyler like a knife to the gut, churning and tearing and slowly ripping open tan skin to reveal the empty fullness inside of him. Because he wished he could've done things differently or brought up the bruises again or asked Josh why he was upset sometimes and what he didn't like so Tyler just could've  _known_.

  But the worst part of it all was that he would never get the chance again, maybe in a later life, but not now in his short time of forever. Tyler would forever have ghosts of hyper Josh and sad Josh and I-wish-you-hadn't-said-that Josh just floating in the corners of his house.

 

 

  It was time to go. Tyler was the last person there at the grave, watching the men cover up the casket with dirt and dirt and dirt that was much too brown for Josh because Josh only like to brown of Tyler's eyes and hair. There was one last memory Tyler believed was worth bringing up at the moment... Just in case dead people could somehow hear your thoughts.

  The memory was actually part of many other memories that were going to be useful many other days; it was the memory of how they said goodbye.

  Josh always hated the word 'goodbye' (just like various other words that were too long or had too many vowels or just didn't feel right) because it sounded like scratchy surfaces and melting candles and the harsh crack of forest fires. So, they never said 'goodbye' when it was time to part ways. Instead, they would smile a cavity-sweet smile and whispered a much-too-quiet-but-feels-just-right 'miss you'. And it all felt right, not bumpy like a 'goodbye'.

 

  And as the sky above him shined in the most beautiful of ways and clouds fluffed all around, the men finally finished topping the grave with disgusting dirt and just-right-green grass, Tyler let a smile crack his lips. 

 

  "Miss you."


End file.
